Flight
by Lightning and Ice
Summary: Our leader is dead, our deputy not far behind. When greencough and famine and biting ice claim her, Windclan will be nothing but a pawfull of battered warriors. We must have a leader. I may not be chosen by Starclan, but I swear not to let my clan die out.


"Poolwhisker, you've been staring at the Moonpool since moonrise."

Startled out of her reverie,Poolwhisker raised her head towards Sandpelt.

"And no one has come."

Sandpelt sighed. "Poolwhisker, I know it's the half moon, but Echofrost is the only one left. And she is very close to losing Brownpaw. You cannot expect her to come."

Poolwhisker fixed her eyes again on the starry pool. "She's already lost him. His spirit is on its way to us."

Sandpelt's eyes widened, but he did not otherwise react.

"Poolwhisker, it's nearly dawn. She's not coming."

Poolwhisker whirled around to face him.

"This was to be the last."

Sandpelt took a step back. "Poolwhisker, I don't-"

"Sandpelt, If your ancestors couldn't survive the twolegs, had to flee their homes because of their destruction, how can your descendants survive biting ice and famine such as this? They will leave this territory, and we will not be able to follow."

Sandpelt froze. "Poolwhisker, all of Starclan knows they will leave. Not one has said we will not follow."

"Sandpelt, we are weak. Countless cat have been lost to the terrible conditions below, yourself included. Starclan as a whole cannot make this journey. Those who do will do it on their own."

He stared at her, then lifted his head. "Poolwhisker, Tawnystar lays dying in his nest and his deputy not far behind him. My daughter will soon lead our clan, and I will follow her wherever she goes."

Poolwhisker fixed him with an icy stare, before letting her gaze drop and shoulders slump. "Mothclaw will not help matters."

"Are you saying my daughter is not fit to be leader?" Sandpelt hissed, tail lashing.

"Yes, I am. She is a wonderful warrior, but she has none of the compassion and understanding required of a true leader."

"Well then, Poolwhisker, keep staring into the clans until you can't hold your eyes open if you want to. I'm sure that when my daughter comes for her nine lives you'll give her an important gift. I have no doubt your wonderful judgement will guide her for moons to come," Sandpelt said, sarcasm dripping from his mew.

Poolwhisker sighed, and turned away.

"Go seek out bluestar, and ask her how to travel the skies."

Mallowtail walks out of Tawnystar's den, head lowered.

"Tawnystar is dead."

Some of the other cats whimper, or at least lower their heads in respect. Tawnystar's death was not unexpected. He was on his last life. He had blackcough and was malnourished. It was only a matter of time.

Still, I am the only one who doesn't react. It's not that my leader's death doesn't sadden me, or that I will not miss my first mentor.

It is that I am a step closer to becoming leader myself. Sootfur, our deputy, is not far from Starclan herself, and I am the most senior warrior after her. I will lead Windclan, as diminished as it is. I will lead this pawful of dying warriors… somehow.

I turn back to reality to see Gorsefoot, my best friend, staring at me.

"Hoping for deputy?" he asks.

I am, but that's not how I answer. "Sootfur's too weak. There probably won't be a ceremony"

His gaze darkens. "There has to be something. We can't be without a leader, not now."

Truly, this is the worst time to be leaderless. All of the clan's territories have been covered in snow and ice long into what should be new leaf, and even greenleaf. A terrible famine has gripped the clans, and on its tail a greencough epidemic. It claimed our medicine cat, and all others who caught the disease. Aside from Sootfur, the only ones alive are the ones who have not gotten sick.

I don't think any of the other clans are faring better than Windclan. The last gathering, almost a moon ago, showed clans racked by sickness and starvation. There is only one medicine cat in all the clans to go to the half moon a pawful of warriors. No true leaders.

The clans are dying.

Redfoot, another warrior, walks up to us. "Swiftclaw and Skyheart are trying to prepare Tawnystar for vigil. Do we have any prey?"

A quick glance at where the fresh-kill pile used to reside tells me we do not.

"No. I'll go hunt."

"Thanks," He says. "I'll go see if I can help Mallowfur with anything."

Ever since Poolwhisker, our medicine cat, died without an apprentice, Mallowtail has taken over the majority of her duties. Her knowledge of herbs is limited, but she's better suited to the job than most of us.

"That would be helpful. I'll come back with an hare, okay?"

Redfoot looks at me in annoyance. There haven't been hares in moons, only mice and the occasional small game. Apparently he's not in the mood to joke.

I pad out past the make-shift wall we've made around the camp, mainly out of snow and withered grass, out onto the moor. My talent of speed is obsolete in this barren wasteland. It's those who can find burrows in the snow who catch prey.

My paws crush the thin sheen of ice over the undisturbed snow. The only disturbances I see is the mound that indicates a covered shrub or stump. No tiny pile of upturned snow indicating a burrow.

After a bit more searching, I let my head droop. Yesterday Gorsefoot caught a bird, small and scrawny from it's own inability to find nourishment and barely enough to feed a kit. The whole clan shared them. Tonight, we will share nothing.

I begin the long plod back to camp. Poolwhisker's stores of travel herbs have long since run out, so I know the warriors den will be full of growling, empty bellies.

My fur is soaked when I come back to camp, but there is nothing to get me dry and warm. The entire clan is soaked in a perpetual coat of melted snow.

I look around the clearing, only to see cats absorbed with their tasks. I pad into he medicine den, where Sootfur, our new leader, resides.

"Oh, hello, Mothclaw. What brings you by?" Mallowfur asks, sitting curled around Sootfur's rattling form.

I sit down on sootfur's other side, facing 's dim enough in here I can't see he unless she's directly in front of my face.

"Not much, just visiting our leader, seeing if she's okay," I say, stroking Sootfur's spine with my tail.

Sootfur surprises both of us by slightly raising her head."Leader?" she asks, her voice small and cracking like a dry leaf.

Mallowfur glares at me, an expression I've never seen on her sweet face.

"Yes dear, Tawnystar hunts with Starclan now. You shouldn't worry about it, just keep resting."

She disobeys, struggling to get her legs under her. She trembles like a cornered mouse before falling back to nest.

"I should be taking care of my kits need prey." she whispers.

Malllowfur flinches. Her litter succumbed to the cold moons ago. Sootfur must be half-delirious. "Don't worry, Soot-" I pause, wondering weather to say fur or star. "I've been making sure patrols go out. " I finish, patting her with my tail.

"That's good. You're...You're a good warrior."

Mallowfur clears her throat. "Mothclaw, why don't you go fetch some clean snow for her to drink?"

I can tell I am being dismissed. "Sure."

The camp is no place for clean snow, good for drinking. It's all dirty and walked on, mingled with dirt. Once again, I must venture out into the desolate territory.

A few foxlegnths away from camp I find a clean patch of snow. I bend and lap some up, the cold crystals burning my throat. I then take the hollow stone Mallowfur gave me and scoop up a bit of the icy powder, and carefully carry it back to camp. In the medicine den, Sootfur sleeps fitfully and Mallowfur only nods to accept my snow. I am happy to leave the sick den behind.

The sun has given way to the moon, and Skyheart and Swiftclaw drag Tawnystar's body into the middle of camp.

"Is it time for vigil yet?" Skyheart asks, unusually subdued.

"Yes," I respond, equally demure.

The scraps of Windclan gather around our former leader's body, huddling together for warmth.

Gorsefoot rests next to me, his pelt pressing against mine. I am glad for the warmth,but the cold of the ground seems to seep into my pelt regardless, chilling my very bones. Tawnystar's vigil will not be pleasant for numerous reasons.

I cautiously press my muzzle into his cold fur, smelling mint and nothing of my warm, friendly leader.

"I won't let you down. I promise the clan will survive." I whisper.

AN/ Hey guys! This 'new' story is actually relatively old- it's my NaNoWriMo from 2013! I found what I had written in my computer and decided that, with a little polishing, it wouldn't be too bad. Updates should be somewhere around every Tuesday until I hit the end of my pre-written material. After that, I make no promises.

Questions? Comments? Hit me up in a review!

ps: please let me know if the formatting's wonky, I uploaded from my phone.


End file.
